Blue and Fading in the Sun
by Ramzes
Summary: An alternative version of what transpired at Harrenhal and after. Politics, politics, politics, with a little prophecy thrown into the mix. WARNING: Not the reading for R L fans. Might not be the reading for my fellow R and L unfans, too.
1. The Knight

**Author Note: There's no need to let me know that you find this idea unlikely. I find it unlikely as well. It's just fun to explore it.**

Blue and Fading in the Sun

 _The Knight_

"And you won't give me away?"

There was still fear in the girl's voice and that made Rhaegar smile. So, she was human after all. His eyes weren't playing tricks on him, yet in this forest, old and black and young and green, she resembled the creatures he had only read about, the creatures who, like her, also hailed from the North. Children of the Forest, they were called and with the leaves clinging to her from her fall where he had caught her, she resembled a something made of forest quite closely. Her ridiculous mismatched armour was lying nearby.

The fear was replaced by baring of sharp teeth. Rhaegar was sure that had he been anyone but who he was, she would have elbowed him in the ribs quite painfully. But she wasn't stupid. Impulsuve, yes, but that was about the extent of it. "I hate being laughed at," she said angrily. "So, are you going to give me away?"

"No," he assured her. She immediately relaxed and smiled at him. "In fact, I think you should visit our chambers. My lady wife will love to meet you."

She gave him a look of skepticism. She had only seen Elia Martell a few times and she had been impressed how unobtrusive she was but the ladies around her… She'd get a headache in less than an hour should she suffer their chattering. Perhaps that was why the Princess was sick all the time.

"I… I am honoured but I really don't think…"

"But I do," Rhaegar said firmly. "She's been dying to know who was hiding behind your helmet."

Lyanna gasped. "But you aren't going to tell her!"

"Of course I will," he replied. "You see, Elia immediately told me that I was looking for a woman."

Lyanna gaped. "But how?!"

He shrugged. "I truly don't know. But she was sure that you were a woman… and that you weren't actually this strong. She liked you a lot. She believes that the realm needs more knights like you."

Lyanna's fear struggled with her curiosity. How had she given herself away?

"She isn't going to tell," the Prince assured her. "She's aware of the need of discretion… more than most," he finished in a lower voice and there was something haunted in his eyes. Lyanna shivered. With what she had seen of the royal box, she could easily imagine just how well aware Elia Martell was. _I don't think I'd want her place for the world._

Cold wind screeched through the trees. They both looked up. The sun was slowly going down behind the highest trees. It was time for them to go.

"I admire your courage, my lady, and your sense of justice," Rhaegar said. "But don't do it again."

She nodded and then, surprised, she saw him reach over to collect a few tender green leaves from those gracing the young trees like tiny symbols of hope. "What are you doing?"

"Take care, my lady," he said and left without looking back.

For a long moment, Lyanna was left staring after him and dreaming what it would have been like to be the princess of such a handsome and noble prince. Then, she shook her head and sprinted for where she had left clothes to change. Ben was already waiting for her, beside himself with worry.

"Where have you been?" he exclaimed and suddenly, Lyanna felt like a fool. A magic moment with the charming prince or not, this was her life. This was what was real. She started untying her laces and if by the end of the day she thought of Rhaegar Targaryen at all, it was just when she had a moment to spare and wonder if it had happened at all, or had it been a thing produced by her fervent imagination, much like the better part of the day.

* * *

The garden of Harrenhal presented a striking contrast to the towers themselves. It was wide and well-kept, with low bushes and many flower beds. It spoke of beauty and renewal and the impression was enhanced by the first spring flowers raising their heads over the dark earth.

A small hand reached down to catch them and Rhaegar smiled a little. He already knew the pattern. The moment the hand got them, the mouth would want to taste them…

"What are you doing out here?" he asked and looked around. Elia was nowhere in sight but a bunch of ladies had already gathered around Ashara Dayne, peeking at the restless bundle in her arms. Royal offspring always attracted interest – and Rhaenys loved being the centre of attention, although she'd raise high hell if someone besides those she knew tried to touch the tip of her finger.

With the child in her arms, Ashara didn't risk a curtsy. She only inclined her head. Rhaenys started struggling in a vain attempt to escape. "Mama!"

That had been the first thing that had made Rhaegar laugh in what had felt like years when he had first heard it. That was the word Rhaenys used for those she loved best – him, her actual mother, her nursemaid, Ashara, Lewyn. Somewhere along the way from King's Landing, Arthur had also become "mama" from time to time. His mother at King's Landing had done her best to win the title as well but their stay had been too short.

"Come here," he said as he strode to her. "Come to your mama…"

But of course, he couldn't kiss her first thing. There was a ritual that Rhaenys insisted on. She thrust her face out for him and he leaned down with the expression of utmost seriousness, pretending to sniff her. Then, he made the funniest face he knew. "Yes, you've got a smelly nose!" he announced and she giggled. He often wondered what she understood of the exchange but since she liked it, who was he to protest? It wasn't as if he didn't delight in it himself.

"Touring the garden, eh?" he asked and tickled her nose with one of the leaves he had brought from the forest. She laughed in joy.

"How is my lady?" he asked and Ashara smiled reassuringly.

"She's fine," she said. "It's just that the babe was very restless those last few hours and now she needs a rest."

A sudden chill made him look up. His father was staring at him from behind the window of the first floor where his chambers were. Was this Rhaegar's imagination, or had Aerys gone gaunter in those short few hours since their last meeting? A bony finger summoned him up and with a sigh of regret Rhaegar kissed his daughter and headed for the steps, preparing for the worst as he always did before such meetings.

He had no idea just how bad it was going to be, though.

"Did you find him?" Aerys asked as soon as Rhaegar stepped in.

There was something in his smile that told Rhaegar he'd better watch out. What was going to take place? An accusation of incompetence? Even so, how bad could it be? He was sadly accustomed to long tirades, things thrown in anger, and furious threats. As long as no one was burned or tortured, it would be fine. He felt sick at his own low standards but that was the reality of the situation and it would be so, for a while.

Of course, he couldn't give the child away. She might not be fully grown and able to realize the scandal this revelation would have brought about but she was noble of heart. She didn't deserve his father's anger unleashing upon her head. "I didn't."

The smile broadened; in this moment, he realized that Aerys knew. He had just confirmed his father's suspicions that he was conspiring with Aerys' enemies. What would happen now? An accusation of treason? An arrest upon the spot? Could someone reach Rhaenys and Elia in time, before the King could? Ah! But Rhaenys was not with her mother right now, making the task harder. Would his father accuse _them_ of treason as well? Yes, he might.

"Fortunately, I have men who are more capable than you," Aerys said, giving him a look of utter derision. "The girl has been revealed. The Starks have reached too far this time! They're making their enmity of me clear… and you say you didn't know?"

"There is no enmity," Rhaegar lied as calmly as he could. "All who came to attend the tourney are naught but your leal subjects."

"Liar!"

Here it was. The start of the fit. Rhaegar felt a profound relief because he could now reasonably expect that his father would wear himself out in this rage and when it ended, wouldn't have the energy to do anything – like arresting him and whoever of the lords attending happened to enter his suspicious mind.

How wrong he was!

For all the faults one could lay at Aerys Targaryen's feet – and there was no shortage of those – stupid was not one of them.

"Now I need you to undo your vile schemes," the King finally said. He sounded almost normal. "Your unholy union with my own bannermen. And I'll do so. Tomorrow, you'll ride in the tilts. And you will win."

For a short moment, Rhaegar didn't understand. That was the undoing of his schemes? Winning the tourney? What?

"And you will reveal my enemy for what she is – a liar and a whore. You will crown her the queen of shame."

Now, all became blatantly clear. He was expected to win the champion's laurel and insult two women at the same time? Two women who were least deserving of it?

Who had put his father to it? To think that he had considered himself lucky with the eunuch's absence! Who was this enemy, so dangerous with his wit? That could well make the lords think that Rhaegar wouldn't be such a great improvement to his father, after all. In fact, that could make them more distrustful of him, for never in the history of the dragon kings had a prince reached so blatantly to rob something from the Great Houses. Compared to this, his father's madness might look preferable – in their eyes!

But Aerys was now standing at the window, staring out at the garden. "She looks quite healthy," he said, "for a Dornish child. But if someone is to drop her on her head, she'll spend the rest of her life with no more wits than my fool, I think."

Rhaegar broke out in cold sweat. Could Aerys really do it? _Yes! Of course he could!_ His madness had been progressing all the time Rhaegar had resisted seeing it.

He clenched his fists in his pockets. His fingers brushed the green leaves he had brought as something to lighten Elia's mood, for she was constantly exhausted and morose and the winter had been so hard on her. Now, they were a poor second best.


	2. The Princess

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are a great inspiration.**

Blue and Fading in the Sun

 _The Princess_

Elia listened to him without interrupting once. At the end, she didn't even sigh. She only looked at him and asked, "Can you truly defeat them all?"

Rhaegar had expected tears, a sigh, something. Now, he couldn't say why. In his almost two years with Elia, he had found out that she might look as fragile as the finest Essosi silk but she was made of the hardest steel Valyria had ever produced. She hadn't even changed face. Only her hands, clasped in her lap and white like a silver chalice, betrayed that she understood the whole gravity of the situation all too well. Was she scared? Rhaegar didn't know her well enough to say but something in the set of her mouth made him think that she might be.

"Yes," he said with more certainty than he felt. Then again, none of the other competitors would be so motivated. His father was mad enough to go forward with his threat. "And you must be present. That's what he wants."

Elia smiled sarcastically. "Of course that's his wish. But I wouldn't be anywhere else anyway. I'd rather face what comes with my chin raised high instead of have my ladies whisper it to me, eager to see my heartbreak."

A little part of Rhaegar felt a shameful delight. At least there would be heartbreak. They were no longer two strangers who shared a life and bed. He wasn't sure what they were but they had built something that could have been put in jeopardy if he had meant the gesture he'd make the next day.

It still might. The humiliation would be so, so bitter. In a moment of terrible fear and regret, he wondered in his father hoped that the debacle would make Elia bleed the babe. He suspected that it might have, had she been unprepared.

Her face softened. She patted his hand. "It isn't your doing, Rhaegar."

But it was. He should have seen what his father was turning into earlier. So much earlier. He had been clinging to the memories of his childhood and refusing to see the present for too long.

"Should I warn her?" he finally asked. "The Stark girl?"

He knew Elia well enough to know that she'd disdain any attempts of comfort on his part. She was a proud woman, his sickly Dornish wife. And she cared about the others. Perhaps if he engaged her into Lyanna Stark's plea, she'd forget her own for a while.

"Why?" Elia asked and gave him a look of surprise. "Why would you do this to her?"

Rhaegar squinted at her to check if she were jesting. She wasn't.

"Because I'll all but claim her as my object of interest. People will think that she's…"

"But no one will dare say it to her face," Elia said. "She's young. She's just about the age where a handsome prince courting her will be the height of romance for her. Trust me, she wouldn't give the rumours a thought at all. She'll be happy in thinking that you're so desperately in love with her."

Now, there was a pale shadow of a smile on her lips that was so out of place.

"You don't understand," Rhaegar said. "She's a knight in her soul."

Elia's smile widened, patient and knowing, and he felt like a boy trying to pry meaning off those old parchments once again. Irrationally, he felt anger. For a moment, he was truly tempted to crown Lyanna for real just to see if Elia would keep being so _maternal_. She was only two years older and she didn't know, she hadn't seen the girl…

"She's a girl of fifteen," his wife said. "I think. I am not talking about her soul. I'm talking about her age. When we're so young, we all dream of the valiant knight who'll win a tourney for us and wed us, or at least spend the rest of his life longing to be able to do so."

All of a sudden, Rhaegar's irritation disappeared, replaced by true anger. There was a wistfulness in Elia's smile. Fondness and grief come to life. What was she talking about? What knight had taught her this? All of a sudden, he felt robbed. Cheated. Which was ridiculous. Elia had come to him with her maidenhead intact.

"If you and I are going to suffer through this, why not make at least one person happy?" Elia went on. "She'll wake up to realities of life soon enough."

"Like you did?"

His voice came out harsher than he had intended and Elia glanced at him in quick surprise. In the fading light, she looked as pure as the Maiden, her belly swollen with their child. Rhaegar was even more surprised than her. He was a rational man who valued her friendship and had never thought about the possibility to stir a longing in her heart.

"Have you been this infatuated?" he demanded.

"A long time ago, I was Lady Lyanna's age," Elia replied calmly.

"And what happened?"

"I was betrothed to him. Edric, his name was… and if he hadn't perished in an accident, I would have still been infatuated, I guess."

Rhaegar felt the lie. He felt it in the way she avoided his eyes, the way the muscles on her jaw stood out, the veil that shadowed her eyes. It had been more than infatuation. It had been love, this Edric had been her world in a way Rhaegar wasn't. The way no one had ever been _his_ world. Abruptly, he envied her. He knew fondness for a woman, for he was fond of her. He knew admiration, for he admired that wolf-child. But he hadn't felt anything as powerful as what he could now see in her. Powerful enough to last for years. Three, at least…

Silence drew long and with it, the shadows in the room also did. When Ashara entered to light a few lamps, everything came back in place and Rhaegar was stunned at how long and deeply he had indulged in human frailties and longings. He had his destiny and his lady wife had her part to play. There had been a reason for this Edric's death. If Elia had loved him, he must have been a man of worth. The first blood shed in the long night trying to encroach on them? The first sacrifice needed for bringing the dragons back to life? A look at Elia's waxy face made him shudder in a fearsome premonition. She was so gaunt. All the flesh had left her face and extremities to go to her belly. And she needed to go through this one more time when her current trial was over. A new sacrifice? Another bloodshed, this time in the bloody bed?

No, he should not think like that. In fact, he shouldn't think about this at all, at least until winning and crowning were behind him. Prophecy was a powerful thing but Rhaegar didn't quite trust it to shield Rhaenys from her grandfather's wrath. Her father needed to do it.

"May I come to spend the night?" he asked and immediately disliked the pleading pitch of his own voice. He sounded as if shaming her was his idea!

Elia looked at him and smiled, widely and with real warmth. "You're welcome," she said; with immense relief, Rhaegar saw that insult and past had relinquished their grip upon her. His father's mistrust could bring the worst upon both their heads but it could not drive them apart. When all was said and done, they were a team and that was what he needed and cherished.

* * *

"Ser Barristan will be the only opponent you need to fear," Arthur said curtly, returning to polishing Dawn, something that he did whenever he wanted to compose himself. Ever the perfect Kingsguard, he wouldn't allow himself criticize the King even now and for this, Rhaegar was grateful.

That was Rhaegar's opinion as well and he was relieved to hear it confirmed but at the same time, it also made his helplessness grow. In the whirlwind of anger, fear and mortification gripping him, he also felt robbed which surprised him. He wanted Rhaenys to be safe, of course he wanted to, and he valued Arthur's willingness to suffer a defeat for this. But triumphing over Arthur had been one of the few things that he truly wanted from his martial training. Since the very moment he had seen Arthur with Dawn, he had been burning to be able to defeat him on the field and lately, he had been so close to it. Yet another thing Aerys had stolen from him, a victory that would have been truly his, for Rhaegar believed he could now achieve it fairly and squarely. But he could not take the risk and so, he'd never know.

"How low the dragons have fallen," he said bitterly. "Fixing tournaments to shame two women at once. Aegon the Unworthy would have been proud."

Arthur's silence was an answer enough. He started polishing more furiously.

"It isn't like this at all," he finally said. "You aren't doing it because you desire it. Your hand is being forced."

"That's what Elia said as well," Rhaegar said and to his own horror added, "I suppose Edric would have done better."

He was stunned to discover this small piece of resentment still simmering in his chest and wondered why this was. He had always known that Elia had been pledged to marry someone else before they were betrothed. His irrational anger towards the dead man shamed him.

Perhaps Arthur didn't know what he was talking about… One look at him confirmed that he knew.

"I doubt it," Arthur said. "He liked being cornered no better than you do. And he would have been no more pleased than you are."

"You're talking with such certainty," Rhaegar said, suddenly wondering why he had never taken the time to ask Arthur about this former betrothed of Elia's.

"Because I knew him all my life," Arthur replied.

"What?" Rhaegar asked, astounded, already anticipating that he wouldn't like the answer.

There was a long time before Arthur interrupted the silence. "You mean the Princess never told you about me and Edric?"

"No," Rhaegar said flatly. "And you never did either, as you know."

"Edric was my brother."

That stunned Rhaegar into speechlessness but at the same time, he could see how the misunderstanding had happened. Elia probably thought Arthur had told him, and Arthur had thought that she had. Now he remembered the fire that had claimed the young lord's life and Arthur's ashen face at his return to King's Landing. Rhaegar himself had advocated for him to be allowed to go home for the wedding… Had the name of the bride ever been mentioned? Perhaps it had been but at the time, Rhaegar had had no reason to think that Elia Martell would ever play a role in his life. For a moment of sheer terror, he wondered if Elia had seen the fire with her own eyes. His urge to shield her grew, yet tomorrow he'd deal her a blow that all the Seven Kingdoms would see and talk about for months…

But then, it would be over. Aegon would be born. The third child would arrive soon. Sadly, there was no place in Rhaegar's world for living his own songs or pondering upon the romantic leanings of girls like Lyanna Stark or Elia Martell. As attached as he was to his wife, he should never forget that the fate of the world depended on his success. Their success. Fortunately, Elia was as hard as a diamond. She would persist. She would live through the morrow. And together, they would triumph.


	3. One More

**Cookies to everyone who reviewed – and sorry about the delay!**

Blue and Fading in the Sun

 _One More_

Rhaegar didn't like the Water Gardens. Too much noise. Too much shouts that just prompted one to run over, ready to stop murder, only to find out that the problem was, in fact, a petty war over a red ribbon or something equally innocent. Water everywhere, from the pools to the very heart of their chambers which made one always look where they treaded if they didn't want to land on the floor. Sometimes they did anyway. Oh, and had he mentioned that there was too much noise?

But Elia had taken to all of it as a duck to water. In mere days, colour had returned to her cheeks, laughter had started coming more easily and liveliness had started animating every feature of hers – liveliness that Rhaegar had never suspected she possessed. Smile was now constantly on her face and she couldn't stop chattering. In short, she looked like someone who had been starving and was now handed a huge meal of delicacies – or blood oranges, as the case might be. Really, at the rate she went through those, the Water Gardens would soon find their stocks depleted. Rhaegar was happy to see that she was doing so well but that didn't make him feel comfortable here. Too… noisy. And the sight of young Arianne Martell holding Rhaenys always filled him with unease. He did not doubt the child's good intentions but a child she was. What if she dropped the babe?

"She won't," Elia reassured him but it didn't help much. With all those children splashing in the pools, safety didn't seem to be anyone's first priority!

But he would have stayed even if Elia didn't feel so great here. He needed to show everyone that his plans were with her and the Harrenhall crowning had been just a one-time event. While in the beginning, he had thought it would be just a brief disturbance, he now had to admit that his father was smarter than he had given him credit for: with Rhaegar's public gesture and the carefully fanned rumours, soon many would start believe that he was Aegon the Unworthy come again. With one move, Aerys had dealt a huge deal on the trust Rhaegar had been building so painstakingly.

"If your eyes stray, you'd better choose someone insignificant," Elia warned him one night, her mouth smiling but her eyes not quite, and Rhaegar felt ridiculously pleased that she cared whether he'd choose another woman. Not that he was interested. Now, he was intrigued and not quite pleased with the woman his own lady wife had turned into her own land – a smiling, playful one, openly affectionate with her friends and so, so vibrant. It wasn't wild life coming through her pores but light shining in her smile, flowing through her blood perhaps. As if someone had opened a window to reveal it.

"Who are you, Elia?" he asked her one morning as they broke their fast. "I feel like I never knew you."

She looked at him, surprised by his serious tone. "I am who I am here," she said. "And who I am at Dragonstone. Just different sides of me, awoken by my surroundings. Do you not understand?"

No, he didn't. It made him a little sad that she so clearly divided her life into happy and – what? Not unhappy, certainly. But not this brimming happiness. And he had seen people adapt to their circumstances but it had never sat well with him when it was about him. He was who he was, with no need to change. This… bazaar… was definitely not the place to bring joy to the surface. Really, they were all a bit like mummers, with their feelings running high so undisguised. Even Doran's.

But Elia didn't share his mind. To his concern, neither did Rhaenys. As young as she was, she seemed to be in her element here and the day they left she became fussy and unsettled, so much that her wetnurse and Ashara were soon down with exhaustion.

"I'll take her," Elia said but Rhaegar wouldn't let her. Trying to deal with a child in such temper was the last thing she needed in her state, even if the child was their own.

"It's the teeth," the wetnurse said and while wishing to bow to her experience, Rhaegar truly hoped that she knew what she was talking about and it wasn't the departing from the Water Gardens that was troubling his daughter. He didn't cherish the idea of her being under Oberyn's influence at all.

Finally, he took pity on Ashara , moved to the wheelhouse, and took Rhaenys on his knees. It was like trying to hold an eel! She kept squirming and sliding, and when she finally muttered "mama" and went to sleep, he sighed with relief but very cautiously, as not to disturb her and make her awake again. Beyond the window, the green of the Red Mountains spread, light and dark, sunlight and shadowed, and in it, an old crumbling building stuck out, as black as the Stranger's cloak, as grim as the ravens circling over it.

"What's this?" he asked in a whisper, just in case, and Elia looked out. Then, they both looked at Ashara who was the best acquainted one with the Red Mountains, although Starfall lay hundreds of miles away.

"I think it's been defunct for decades," she replied. "I don't know its name."

"The Tower of Joy," Rhaegar said, very seriously, because he felt really joyful right now and he'd stay so as long as his daughter stayed asleep.

* * *

It all started just as expected. The maesters and midwives all claimed that with so few complaints as Elia carried, the birth was likely to be an easy one. And it was. Her pains started around midnight and just a little before sunrise, Rhaegar was informed that his son had been born.

And then, it all started crumbling down so far that later, Rhaegar couldn't even remember the sequence of events. As he waited impatiently for the babe and Elia to be cleaned out for him to see, the buzz from her chambers alerted him that there was something wrong. Still, he waited because he could do nothing to help and he almost fell flat on his face when the door was thrown open and a woman ran past him. In her hands, Rhaegar saw what appeared to be a huge towel dripping with blood.

"Come here, Your Grace," Oswell said, pulling him away from the door. "You'll only be in he way…"

The rest of it was a fog of women running in and out with buckets of water, more bloodied clothes, the sharp smell of a potion and the baby crying lustily, then falling silent. At the next opening of the door, Rhaegar saw him suckling contentedly at the wetnurse's breast as two maesters were repositioning Elia. Rhaegar could see that the bedsheets were also dark with blood.

"The only time I have seen anyone lose so much blood, he died," Oswell muttered and Rhaegar stared at him with horror.

"Why, thank you, Oswell, it was just what we needed to hear," Arthur snapped as Rhaegar finally pushed the door wide open and entered.

The smell of blood assaulted his nostrils immediately. Elia let out a soft moan as a maester was rubbing her belly vigorously, then screamed and started thrashing.

"Calm down, my lady," the man said. "I beg you, be still. I cannot stop now. It's for your life."

But she was beyond following. Two midwives and another maester held her down as she twisted and squirmed, her face a mask of agony, her screams turning into small pitiful mewls. New scarlet blood coloured the bedsheet and finally, Elia slumped on the bed.

"No!" Ashara said sharply, loudly, angrily, positioning herself at Elia's head. "You should not go to sleep, Elia. Talk to me. Where are you from?"

"Sunspear," Elia whispered.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes."

"What's my name?"

Silence. A midwife tried to pour a potion into Elia's mouth but stopped when the goblet was not nearly empty. Rhaegar knew what she feared: that his wife would choke to death.

"Elia! What's your husband's name?"

"Rhaegar," Elia replied but it was just a movement of her lips. They weren't sure she even got it to the end. Then, her eyes started rolling out as the massage reached its roughest. She tried to scream but the sound would not come out. Her eyes closed but they could see them rolling under her eyelids until she finally lost consciousness.

The maester rose and started counting, his eyes fixed on Elia's vulnerable, exposed flesh.

"How long do we have to wait?" Ashara asked the moment Rhaegar realized that the torrent of blood had stopped. One of the midwives came to wipe the blood from before.

"Until five hundred would be a good indicator, I think," the other maester replied and the world turned to numbers and those olive thighs, still clean from blood. Still clean… still clean…

* * *

"When is it going to be safe for my lady to be with child again?" Rhaegar asked a week later, when everyone had calmed down. The babe was growing, Elia had actually taken a few bites today instead of only liquids and things were looking bright again. Finally!

The reply he got plunged him into darkness once again. _But there must be one more_ , he thought and that was the only clear thought in his mind. _There must be one more. Somehow._

* * *

He didn't tell Elia. Not immediately. It would be cruel of him to let her know. He suspected that after a while, she might be a little relieved, secretly, for she would not need face the Stranger for a third time. But he thought – and Ashara Dayne agreed – that the news of her barrenness would be crushing for her in the beginning, so that beginning should be as delayed as possible.

"Aegon," he told her the next time he entered her chambers. "What better name for a king?"

"Will you write a song for him?" she asked.

Rhaegar hesitated. He had played the harp for Rhaenys many times, often with tunes he made for her alone. But the winter had returned. In King's Landing, his father's madness progressed. It wasn't the time to keep his children happy and entertained. "He has a song," he replied. "He is the Prince That Was Promised and his is the song of ice and fire."

It was a sign of Elia's ongoing fatigue that she didn't see anything strange in his answer that was no answer at all. That only strengthened his determination to not tell her about her state until she was truly up to it. "There must be one more," he spoke softly, thoughtfully, as his eyes went to the door where Ashara was just coming in, the violet of her eyes burning bright in the shadows. Purple eyes. Almost dragonlike.

* * *

 _If your eyes stray, you'd better choose someone insignificant._

Elia's words kept echoing in his mind as he reached over to touch a sleeping Rhaenys' cheek. Ashara moved over from the bed and retreated into the alcove but he could see that her eyes were red. She had been weeping.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his mind instantly coming on the alert. "Is it something with Elia?"

He had spent the day away. The Seven knew what could have happened in a whole day. But it had been over a month already. She should have been fine.

"No," Ashara said immediately. They were both talking very softly, as to not disturb the sleeping child. "The Princess is fine. It's… a family matter."

The parchment lay on the side table they used for Rhaenys' cups of water and honey for her cutting toes. Rhaegar could see the falling star but not the sword – it was on the rolled over part.

"Nothing that cannot be made better with time and efforts, I hope?" he asked.

"I hope so," Ashara said softly but the new tears in her eyes told a different story.

"And you have been taking care of my daughter while you were so upset!"

"Her wetnurse is unsound. And she only wants the two of us or her lady mother."

That simple reasoning made Rhaegar feel foul. What was he planning to do? The girl was nothing if not outstanding in her duties to his family. She deserved better than what he would demand of her.

But winter had returned. There had to be one more head. And Elia could not provide it. Ashara had a drop of Targaryen blood herself, she could be mistaken for one! And she was one who would never create any problems to her lady. Not like Barbra Bracken at all.

"Come with me," he said and made a step towards her, holding a hand out.

At first, she drew back, her eyes widening and darting around like a cornered animal. His revulsion with the whole affair grew. No matter what, he wasn't a man who forced himself on women who were unwilling. If she said no, he'd retreat. But when he reached for her hand, she put it in his silently.


	4. Dark Wings, Dark Words

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Blue and Fading in the Sun

 _Dark Wings, Dark Words_

In the stark daylight of winter, Harrenhal looked deserted and wrecked. None of the adornments made for the tourney stood and the rich green land looked as vast and barren as the dilapidating castle; indeed, with the snow falling, once or twice they thought that the Tower of Ghosts was actually crumbling right before their eyes. Oswell was the only one who stayed calm."

"If anyone has ever wondered why I never felt the urge to go back home, I suggest that you have another look," he only said and although he did look back as they spurred the horses further down the King's Road, no one commented.

Rhaegar wished they could go there, so Oswell could have some time with his family but time was a precious thing. They had lost too much of that in the Stormlands already and Rhaegar couldn't help but think of how easy it would have been if he had not angered Robert Baratheon. He could have taken the matter to him, instead of trying to win lesser Stormlands Houses to his side. Robert had _seen_ the King at Harrenhall.

But the Riverlands had turned out to be no smaller a challenge. For a start, it had been next to impossible to convince the Brackens to participate in something that the Blackwoods were also part of and vice versa. And even some of those who were well-disposed to his suggestions seemed not to be entirely convinced in his reliability after the slight he had given his lady wife in public. In fact, he was barely starting to realize it. The shocked silence at the tourney hadn't been even half of it. _I wonder how Elia could ever stand it_ , he thought, even knowing that she hadn't had any other choice.

But House Whent was still one of the Houses that didn't need winning over, so Oswell would have to do without any family time. They'd better reach Riverrun as fast as possible. Rumours had it that Aerys was getting worried with his heir's disappearance and Rhaegar hated it when his father worried. It was a _dangerous_ thing.

Riverrun met them with all the excitement Harrenhal lacked. Servants polished floors with oils and brush. Herds of cows were being shepherded for the wedding feast. Catelyn Tully herself was scenting the linens for her marital bed with lemon and rose perfumes, or so her sister told them. That was one of the few things that Rhaegar remembered of her chattering during the welcoming feast. But he remembered Lady Catelyn's words, although they were not addressed to him. She was the only woman, other than Elia, who clearly felt no urge to giggle and give him coy looks. Her manners were all grace and politeness but it was obvious that she was interested more in Lewyn who had traveled through all the kingdoms in his youth – and a good deal of Essos. She wanted to know everything about the world beyond the limited space she dwelled in and that was a trait Rhaegar could respect. But she was the lady of Riverrun as well, having taken over her late mother's duties, and she did an admirable job. Winterfell would be lucky with its future lady.

"Will you do us the honour to stay and attend the wedding?" Hoster Tully asked and though it was a question that was expected, the eagerness in his voice was a little too much for Rhaegar's liking. But he could use it to his advantage.

Before he could reply, Lady Catelyn chimed in. "We will be most pleased, indeed."

The perfect words, the perfect smile, and the perfect lie. From the whispers of the servants moving his few belongings into his chamber, Rhaegar knew that she only cared about one thing: being actually wed to her young heir. _How curious_ , he thought now. In these horrid times, _there are still people who find the time for love._

Unbidden, Ashara's face rushed into his mind until he could see nothing else but her violet eyes. For a while before he left, they had become odd. She had started withdrawing from him immediately in the aftermath and while in the beginning, he had stayed in her bed for a while, with time they had limited their interactions to the time they both spent with Elia and… and the act that was not a love one. The intensity of his desire for her had been a surprise to him but he knew that they differed in anything that mattered. Their relationship was purely a physical one and her reluctance to be with after only confirmed that it wasn't an easy one for her. She might enjoy pleasure with him but her loyalties belonged to Elia. She was his wife's, not his, the lie tortured her and she feared the moment Elia would come to know more than Rhaegar did. She didn't have the power of his conviction. No, what he felt for her was not love but it wasn't the infatuation Catelyn Tully felt for her young betrothed either. Sometimes, he wondered if Elia would have come to react to him as passionately as Ashara did if she hadn't gotten with child almost immediately after they had wed. She had barely had the time to start discovering her body's wishes before she was forced to put a clamp on them. Ever since, cautiousness had always reigned supreme in their relationship. It was so different with Ashara. He'd love keeping her but he had the feeling that Elia might object. He preferred not to think what Arthur would do once he came to know.

"Of course I'll stay," he said, already composing the letter he'd write to his father to let him know that he had appeared and at the same time, soothe Aerys' fears.

The reply arrived sooner than expected and when it did, Rhaegar already knew he had failed. He had underestimated Varys or whoever was whispering in his father's ear. They had used his absence to drive the King even further into insanity and suspiciousness, leading him to force the wedge between them and their most powerful lords with his own hand.

"What?" Arthur asked, noticing how white the Prince's face had become.

Unable to form words, he only handed the letter to the closest to them – Lewyn. He read it and spat an obscenity that Rhaegar had never heard from the mouth of any of the squires and knights he had been training in the Red Keep.

"Looks like we'll have to change occupations," he announced to his sworn brothers who were polishing their swords. Unlike Aerys, Rhaegar had never felt uncomfortable with the Kingsguard being alone with blades around him but now he felt another kind of unease. It was a little like having not Lewyn but Oberyn here, with his humour that poisoned the very air around when he felt cornered."

Arthur stared. "What?"

"By the King's command," Lewyn confirmed. "We're becoming abductors now. Or at least, Rhaegar is. And before you can say it, no, there won't be any detours around the order or any attempts to sway him, I imagine. The fact that my niece is too ill to be moved? Well, someone forgot to tell the King that she's too ill."


	5. In the Capital of Madness

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Blue and Fading in the Sun

 _In the Capital of Madness_

The first five days of their journey were filled with the girl's loud insistence that they release her immediately, mingled with threats of vengeance about what her father, her brothers and she herself would do to those so-called knights. From time to time, there was crying for her guards who had lost their lives defending her – and it was no easier to bear than her shouts. She didn't weep softly and ladylike – it was another torrent of loud, ugly and uncontained voice, as a wolf would mourn her pack. Somehow, this raw display of emotion made them feel even guiltier.

She didn't want to eat with them, so they left her hoard her food for whenever she wanted to consume it. In the beginning, they let her eat a little away from them. Right up to the moment when Oswell caught her trying to sneak out into the night. Without a horse because they weren't so stupid to leave those unwatched, into a forest filled with bears and wolves that were much furrier than her, of the four-legged kind! Two nights later, she tried to crawl away dragging her blanket over herself, in the not so vain hope that at night, Arthur would take it as a part of the dark grass. He almost did. What she would have done alone in the nothingness with no village nearby and no fire to offer protection against winter and beasts still remained to be seen because she refused to answer when they asked. By the sixth day, she seemed more reconciled with her fate which naturally made them feel even more watchful because they didn't believe that she was.

So the days went – riding, trying to avoid her incessant questions what did they want of her because, of course, she wouldn't stop harassing them just because they had pretended not to hear the first two hundred times she had asked, trying to ignore the threats she still let out often enough, being constantly on the watch, should need arise to save her from herself. And worrying. What did the King have in mind? How much worse his mind was now? Who he unleashed his madness onto right now? The nightmare that had been Rhaenys' presentation flashed through Rhaegar's mind more often. Aegon's birth might have scared him even worse, he thought. Now, I have an heir. _A future promised to those who would follow me. What about Elia?_ Rhaegar didn't trust his father with her for a moment either. And she had been close to death so very recently.

When they arrived at the gates of King's Landing, he ordered Lyanna to keep her hood closely down, fully expecting that'd she'd show her face at the first chance she got. But each time he glanced at her, he saw her with her head bowed, trying to make herself as small as possible. For some reason of her own, she didn't want to be recognized, even with the murmurs and the inevitable problems it would bring to him.

The first real trouble came in the Red Keep when without thinking, he headed for Elia's chambers and Ashara was the first person of note he saw there. "Who is she?" she asked immediately, shooting him a look of suspicion, and Rhaegar suddenly realized just what it looked like, realized that the moment Lyanna showed her face, people would make the connection with the laurel. He had some explaining to Elia to do… and looking at Ashara, so different from his father's simpering mistresses, it dawned upon him that he'd have not just one but two suspicious women to calm down.

"I need to talk to Elia," he said, ridiculously relieved that the rumour of the abduction had not reached King's Landing before them. How could it have? They have ridden as fast as the wind, even with the constant stops caused by the wolf girl's attempts to ride away.

"You'd better wait then, Your Grace," Ashara replied. "She's sleeping. She usually takes a nap at this time."

Of course, he knew nothing of Elia's new habits and the unspoken reproach in Ashara's words made him blush, as if he had been wandering about aimlessly, instead of trying to secure the future. He ordered the Kingsguard to take Lyanna to his own chambers – only later would he realize just how much of a bad idea it was – and entered Elia's bedchamber.

It felt like entering another world. Rhaenys, so grown now and so black-haired, was snuggled at her mother's side, Elia's thin arm thrown over her protectively. Rhaenys was glowing with health and Elia looked exhausted and pale, even after all those months. But she was better. For a while, Rhaegar stood staring at them, careful not to make noise and wake them up. His passion for Ashara felt like something that was outer to him now. A force of nature that overwhelmed his senses but could not touch his heart. Not like the sight of his wife and daughter did. And he knew that even after Ashara got with child, even after giving birth, he'd never feel the same for her. There was nothing tying him to her but their shared concern about Elia, love for Arthur, and the mix of passion and guilt.

Behind the door, there were soft steps and even softer voices. For a moment, he wondered how Lyanna Stark was faring in his chambers but he wasn't curious enough to go and check for himself. If she was stupid enough to try another escape, he'd get to know soon anyway. He'd stay here where he wanted to be. He'd have to face his father soon enough. In fact, even if their meeting would be postponed for years, it wouldn't be long enough!

He was just rising to go out and ask where Aegon was quartered when a light, almost inaudible knock made him hurry to the door before the person outside could wake Elia or Rhaenys.

Ashara. Her face drawn in worry, she told him urgently, "The King is asking for you. And if the last weeks are something to go by, you must really hurry up."

So hurry up he did, for even before those last weeks, his father had started taking his annoyance at anyone being slow to disobey by inflicting violence on his attendants or worse, Rhaegar's mother. He hurried and he wished that he were anywhere but here, that his plan was done with and yielded results, that all that wasn't there was.

At the entrance of the throne room, Varys hurried over to meet him in a sea of bows and perfume. "We're so happy to see you here, Your Grace," he all but sang and Rhaegar nodded, stifling the urge to get his hands around this fat throat and squeeze. Was it the eunuch's idea to take Elia and the children here? Get him to take a young girl to a still unknown but undoubtedly macabre faith?

"We won't have any need of you, my lord," he said and Varys pouted like a woman. Rhaegar tried to read something about his father's state of mind on the face of the Kingsguard at the door but stroke a snag. It was Ser Gerold. This one would die stone-faced.

The creature sitting upon the Iron Throne was so gaunt that Rhaegar was amazed he still lived. Baelor the Blessed had died when he had started refusing food. Why wouldn't Aerys? A moment later, he reproached himself for ever entertaining such thoughts. But were they really this horrible? The man before him had nothing to do with the father he remembered. Aerys was lost to him and lost to himself. This shell was something evil that brought the entire court chained, rising discontent among the Great Houses that might end up with the Iron Throne itself being broken.

"How was your journey?" Aerys asked as Rhaegar bowed. He didn't rise and sit down at a table with his son. Instead, he kept him to one knee.

"It was… delightful," Rhaegar said neutrally, wondering if he should start with his prepared excuses of checking how the kingdoms were doing in this unexpected return of winter and trying to make the Houses that had not attended the tourney feel honoured. No, that would mean talking too much. As mad as the King was, his perceptions were sometimes sharper than many sane a man. He might feel the lie. "May I ask what you need the girl for, Your Grace? Lyanna Stark. Why did you order me to bring her to you so urgently? She couldn't have done anything to displease you, I am certain. She's been far from King's Landing for many months."

Aerys couldn't know about the Knight of the Laughing Tree, could he? Varys wasn't this well-informed. And even if he were, Aerys had likely forgotten all about the case and his rage. He often did… unless Tywin Lannister was concerned. _If he was any different, we'd have been faced with the lords' discontent much earlier,_ Rhaegar reasoned out.

"No." There was a smile on Aerys' lips, a smile revealing broken teeth. Was that another effect of practically starving himself? That smile made Rhaegar shiver inside. Purple eyes stared at him without the slightest hint of affection. "She's so pleasing to me that I intend to do her a great honour. She is to become my goodaughter."

It all rushed in Rhaegar's mind at once: Robert Baratheon's rage at the crowning that was such a minor thing compared to actually taking away his betrothed, Brandon Stark's fury, Rickard's offense at having his agreement with the Stormlands broken, Hoster Tully who would take their side… Did Aerys want to compound the problems further?

"That's an idea deserving to be considered," he said, making his voice even. "But Lady Lyanna is betrothed already and Viserys is so very young."

"It isn't Viserys that I have in mind," Aerys elaborated, that malicious smile widening. "Fortunately, it is within our rights to wed two wives at the same time."

It all became clear now. All that rage, all that anger would be aimed at Rhaegar. He would be the one who dishonoured House Stark, stole from House Baratheon, endanger the alliance with House Martell, broke all laws of gods. Who would follow such a man? He'd come out looking worse than his father! And he had crowned the girl; everyone would believe that he had acted out of lust and desire. Thrown away a chance to get a crown and peace for a woman. A woman? Was she fifteen anyway? Gods, what did it matter?

"That's a plan most unusual," he said, striving for calm that now definitely escaped his grasp. "But I am wed and I don't want any other wife but Elia. I wouldn't have even Rhaenys who was Aegon the Conqueror's beloved, let alone a child like this."

"Do you think I care what you want?" Aerys asked, his eyes narrowing.

"It isn't wise, Father," Rhaegar said. "Such a thing would turn them all against us."

"They are against us already!" Aerys screamed and rose, finding a blade as he did. Blood flew in all directions but he looked as if he didn't even feel the gash in his forearm. He was losing his ability to feel pain and despite everything, something in Rhaegar's chest constricted with sadness. "Do you think I do not know what those traitors intended to do at Harrenhall? And you sat there, smiled, and let them conspire against me."

That was a dangerous territory to venture into, so Rhaegar didn't say anything, just stood there in this inconvenient pose and watched as his father brought himself into an even greater frenzy, paced and raged until finally, he climbed up the stairs, fell onto the Iron Throne causing another disperse of blood to spread in the air and closed his eyes. Sleeping or unconscious? Rhaegar didn't know but this time, he didn't feel like covering him with whatever cloth there was close by. Instead, he left the throne room and told Varys who had resumed his lurking near the door, "The King needs help. Go inside."

Those fits always sapped Aerys' energy for days in a row. Rhaegar decided to use these days for his own aims, the period when his father would be harmless. And he'd start now.

"Go to Flea Bottom," he ordered Arthur as soon as he reached his chambers. "No. Before that, you'll come with me. I want you to have a good look at Aegon and find a male child who look like him somewhat. Buy him or something… many women there are always ready to give their babes to everyone who pays well enough… Bring him here at night."

Arthur stared at him, wide-eyed, but did not ask any questions. "I will," he said."

"Lady Lyanna?" Rhaegar asked.

"She's sleeping."

They looked at each other with the same thought in their mind: now, at least she wouldn't impede their preparations, although Arthur still had no idea what they were preparing for.

"We're leaving," Rhaegar told Elia as soon as he entered her chambers and embraced her. "Tomorrow night. Have Ashara and your other Dornish attendants prepare your chests. Only what you need most. No one should know."

Elia turned pale. "But he… he won't just let us leave. He brought us here…"

"To make me do his bidding," Rhaegar said. "Who is going to stop you when you're with me? I can do as I please with myself and mine… for now," he added darkly. "You're leaving for Dorne, Elia. You'll be safe there as I do… what I must."

"Are you going to come with us?" she asked, although she knew he wouldn't. They had discussed his plans months ago. "You're leaving from Dorne anyway."

He shook his head, entirely convinced. "No, I am not," he said. "Doran can always refuse to hand you and the children back to my father but if word comes out that I have been in Dorne even for a short time, that's different. If my father gets a wind of our plans, my presence will bring only trouble upon Dorne. And it isn't wise for all of us to be together. You're leaving by ship with Lewyn while I'll leave by horse."

Elia thought about this. "Ashara cannot travel by ship," she said. "She has to come with you… she was leaving in a few days anyway."

"Why?" Rhaegar asked, trying not to sound too interested but by the look in Elia's eyes, he could say that he had sounded too disinterested.

"That's between the two of us," Elia said curtly. "Let's say that someone did something to her. Something big and bad. If I find out who he is…"

Excitement rushed through him. Ashara was with child already. She had to be. Only a woman with child would not risk a sea journey. His plans were already coming into fruition! And then, fear. It was clear that Elia didn't know the babe was _his_. "If you stray, you'd better choose someone insignificant," she had said months ago. They had and he had – but now he realized that Ashara wasn't, not truly. And he shivered at the inevitable moment when Elia would find out what had taken place, although there would be many months before that happened. Perhaps his daughter would be already born when he saw his wife again. At Sunspear.


End file.
